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Month: January 2014

(I’m not even sure I can call myself a single momma anymore since technically I’m in a relationship again…but I’m not married so for tax & blog purposes we’ll go with “single”)

Baby Bee leaves again next week for 10 days at The Drone’s. Yes, again. That in itself is not the issue I’m pissed about right now. It’s stupid, I HATE the idea, but it’s court ordered & for now there is nothing I can do about it. What I’m really struggling with right now is how the mother f I’m going to get him home. In case you didn’t know, plane tickets aren’t cheap. And since Baby Bee is over 2, I have to buy an adult ticket for him. So that’s one round trip for me and one one-way for him. That’s a shit ton of money. I don’t have a shit ton of money. I don’t have a ton. I have shit. Like literally, nothing. No money. Nada. Zilch. And yet, I’m required by the f—ing courts to miss work, fly across the country in 2 1/2 weeks, pick up my toddler & then fly us home. All while NOT RECEIVING CHILD SUPPORT

Yes, you read that right. He’s been ordered to pay, but he does not. He is severely behind and owes a ton of arrears. There is a lien against him. And yet…he’s allowed visitation. Child support & visitation are completely different cases, pursued in different courts. And herein lies the issue I’m pissed about. I have to pay for everything for Baby Bee…clothing, food, diapers, daycare, toys, fun trips we want to take…in addition to rent, utilities, gas, bills etc. And also, a couple thousand dollars worth of plane tickets several times a year. While The Drone pays for….what exactly? I’d say his plane tickets but I’m fairly confident his parents pay for them. So he gets off the hook & gets to play “daddy” for a few days & then sends Baby Bee home & doesn’t have shit to do with being a parent until his next visitation comes around. Occasionally I’ll get a text asking how he’s doing & even rarer he’ll call & try to talk to Baby Bee. But no child support gets sent my way, no new shoes for his ever growing feet, no medical insurance, nothing. Sure, that is kind of what I signed up for when I took the leap into single motherhood, but I naively believed the courts would be on my side. That they would tell him to pay or else. Or at the very least tell him to come to his son to visit, instead of allowing the other way around. I could handle no child support if I wasn’t forced to buy plane tickets as well. That’s just too much injustice, too much financial strain for one girl to handle gracefully.

Today after work, I swallowed my pride & asked The Drone to help out with purchasing plane tickets, or postpone his visit since there was NO POSSIBLE WAY I could swing 3 tickets right now. I knew the answer before I sent the text, but I had to ask, I’m that desperate. Of course, it was the exact answer I was expecting & then he threw in a zinger…”just get the money from your parents” he said.

Oh no you just didn’t.

They pulled 1200 out of their butts a mere 3 weeks ago so I could fly out on New Year’s Day & bring Baby Bee home. Because of me, my parents are in no financial situation to keep buying stupid plane tickets. But since HIS parents pay for all his shit, he just assumes mine can & will too. Obviously, they’ve gone above & beyond for me and Baby Bee but times are lean for everyone. And for him to be so f—ing selfish & vindictive just enrages me. I should be used to this by now, I really should. The Drone has never compromised in the near decade I’ve known him. But in my desperation, every now & then I think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be human. But no, just a dick who talks big but never follows through.

I’m angry. I’m stressed out of my gourd & I’m sitting with a lap full of bills I can’t pay ($1,000 in medical bills anyone?) in a freezing apartment; so please forgive me for not being the bigger person & for slamming my child’s father on the Internet. Not exactly a mature thing to do, I know. But sometimes it feels good to get the anger out & this is the only way I know that won’t land me in jail. At least I hope it won’t.

I don’t know what in God’s green earth my dear son has against sleeping, but his utter REFUSAL to go to bed without all out warfare is wearing me down. For nearly three years we have had an intense battle of wills at every naptime and bedtime. I am exhausted. I am angry. I am sad. I am utterly defeated. I have no f—ing idea what I’m doing wrong, what I’m doing right, or what I should be doing. I’ve tried literally EVERY sleep “method” out there (even the dreaded CIO), and none work. None.
I have been sitting in his room for almost two hours waiting for this little twerp to fall asleep so I can sneak out. If I even think about getting up, he starts sobbing hysterically in such heartbreaking sincerity, I last only about 10 minutes before going back in to soothe him. I don’t know if he’s scared I’ll disappear while he sleeps (which could explain the incessant night waking), or if he’s totally playing me, but it’s getting old. I have chores to do, things to get ready, and my own sleeping that needs to be done. Not to mention C is sitting on the couch bored as hell, wondering if I’m ever going to make it out alive.

I’m out of ideas. I stick to a routine, that has changed very little since his infancy. I give him plenty of warning before transitions. I use essential oils. I read to him. We rock (if he wants it). I sing lullabies. I rub his back. I reassure him that mommy will be here if he wakes up. He has a night light. WHAT AM I MISSING HERE!?!?! Is there a vital ingredient that I am somehow missing? Did they give a class on how to get your kids to sleep that I wasn’t aware of!? Am I just a complete failure? I don’t know. All I know is that we need sleep and fast. Three years of very little sleep is b r e a k i n g me down.

But I would like to mention that I remained very calm tonight and there was NO yelling (just a slight raise in my volume, once). So…yay me

So, if I know nothing else, I at least know myself. Yesterday (January 2) I failed all THREE of my publicly announced resolutions. What’d I say, 24 hours? I called that shit.

Baby Bee and I were delayed for three hours as we tried to make our way back to the West Coast, in possibly the worst airport in the damn country. This airport has very little options in nourishment, so I spent a crazy amount of money I don’t have to try & feed the babe and myself. I tried my hardest to stick with GF, but I gorged on BB’s goldfish crackers and those awful good Ritz Bitz crackers they hand out on long flights. Sure, with 5 hours of flight time & 3 hours of waiting time I had the time to write, but was trying to keep a very tired & bored toddler from a) running away b) causing a nasty pileup in the hallway or c) having a nuclear meltdown. Not easy ever but even harder when you want to just sit there next to him & wail in frustration & exhaustion. (I never thought it was fair adults are expected to keep their shit together when they are faced with WAY more infuriating circumstances. But I digress)

Which leads us to resolution número tres that I broke…being a calm & peaceful parent. While I didn’t completely go berserk on Baby Bee (I understood everything he was feeling yesterday so it was easier to be sympathetic), I could hear that familiar exasperated edge creep into my voice & feel my face morph into something ugly & mean. Luckily, most times I could quickly switch back to Calm Mama Bee, but there was a lot do switching back and forth. I was like Jekyll & Hyde. But in a rare quiet moment I observed several other people (some parents and some not) struggling or succumbing to the same feelings I was dealing with. There is only so much calmness and empathy one can feel when your plane has been delayed for the third hour in a row, you’re running out of diapers and your traveling companion refuses to eat or sleep & doesn’t understand what’s going on. I felt like standing on a chair, raising my fist and shouting “all you mamas out there, UNITE!!!” But I didn’t because I couldn’t find a chair and was afraid of getting arrested. So I settled for sympathetic smiles and weary laughs with passing parents. A quiet revolution.

All things considered, I’d like to think I didn’t do so damn bad. Technically all my resolutions were broken, swiftly, but my circumstances were pretty extreme (although could have been a lot worse). I’ll just declare Thursday, January 2, 2014 a mulligan and start over today. As I eat a piece of peanut butter toast. Crap….
2 outta 3 ain’t bad right?

Today is the first day of a very promising new year…I woke up next to the man I never thought I’d find after having the first New Years Eve in 6+ years NOT spent in tears or a rage….and now I’m a mere 6ish hours away from holding my Baby Bee after a long 10 days!!!I’m so excited! I just can’t hide it!

Actually, I can hide it. I’m sitting on the dee-sGUSTING floor of the Las Vegas airport seriously contemplating sleeping off my hangover & ravenous hunger. Not EXACTLY a glamorous start to 2014 but….I still have hope. A very fragile & timid hope, but a hope nonetheless. I mean…shit can’t keep going the way it’s been going the past year or so can it?! I was told every storm runs out of rain, right? RIGHT?!?! *cue desperate music*

Whatever. Twenty-fourteen is gonna get owned. By me. With my tiny terror of a son on my hip and my bearded man by my side. Oh and the fat white cat swirling around my ankles, tripping me. That’s my resolution, yo! (Sorry, too much Breaking Bad lately) Actually I don’t really do resolutions because I tend to break them and then that’s just another thing to feel like a failure in. But! But, this year I’m making a few. And to hold myself accountable, I’m gonna write them here….for all to see. (And also to give this post a point) It’s YOUR responsibility to remind me of them when I start slipping. Because let’s face it, I will. In about 24 hours. So without further ado….

QUEEN BEES 2014 RESOLUTIONS:

1. Fully commit to the gluten free bullshit. I have felt like a train wreck for weeks on end, and I know exactly why (besides the increased alcohol consumption). I will tearfully bid adieu to breads, pastas, starches, refined sugars and everything else I love. I will now morph into a bacon eating rabbit.

2. Write something every day. A blog post. A journal entry. A list. Anything goes, as long as I write it. Or type it…it IS 2014 after all.

3. Consciously be a calmer, more positive mama to Baby Bee. I have the resources. I have the support, the desire and the REASONS. It’s time to stop being a pansy and just do it already. It’s going to be hard, because I’m sure I’ll stumble on a lot of ugly truths about myself. But I’ve got every reason to do it, and none to NOT do it. Baby Bee needs a better mama. And I’m tired of yelling.